On the stump, Texas
Gov. George W. Bush bounds toward the voters, flashes a smile, shakes a hand and kisses a
baby.

His jovial big-man-on-campus confidence is unshaken even by
the flap over his half-admission about abusing cocaine as a young man.

To many observers, George W. Bush is "a natural," a
politician with an easy manner, a common touch and the look of a winner.

Though he has offered no comprehensive domestic policy and
demonstrated only a rudimentary knowledge of world affairs, Bush has floated -- more than
battled -- into his position as the early front runner to succeed Bill Clinton in the
White House.

Yet, in his near-effortless jockeying for the inside track, the
Texas governors greatest asset has been not what he says or what hes done, but
who he is -- or more precisely, who his father is.

Only the strong public perception of former President Bush as an
honorable man can explain how quickly Gov. Bush has taken control of Campaign 2000. A
recent CBS News Poll found 60 percent of Americans with a favorable view of former
President Bush and only 17 percent with an unfavorable view.

"People just automatically say, 'If this guy is George and
Barbara Bush's son, we don't have any question about those personal qualities that we were
fooled on by Clinton'," explained Robert M. Teeter, President Bush's campaign manager
in 1992. [NYT, July 24, 1999]

Indeed, without the glow of the Bush name, it is hard to imagine
that the joshing-backslapping Texas governor would be the odds-on favorite to win the
White House or even be viewed as serious presidential timber.

As Marilyn Quayle bitterly told The Arizona Republic,
the caricature they made of Dan [Quayle] in 88 is George W. Its him. It
wasnt true about Dan. But it is him. ... A guy that never accomplished anything. ...
Everything he got, Daddy took care of.

In relying on his fathers good name, Gov. Bush can count
himself lucky, too, that a series of investigations into his father's alleged wrongdoing
were sidetracked in the late 1980s and early 1990s, dead-ended by both Republicans and
senior Democrats.

This fuzzy bipartisanship spared President Bush from accountability
in scandals ranging from the Iran-contra affair to Iraqgate -- the clandestine arming of
Saddam Hussein -- from the contra-cocaine operations to October Surprise, allegations of
secret contacts between Republicans and Iranians in 1980. [For a summary of President
Bush's alleged misconduct, see Robert Parry's Lost History.]

Still, even today, as Gov. Bush takes aim at the White House,
Democratic decisions continue to benefit President Bush's reputation.

In late June, the Clinton administration chose to keep secret most
U.S. government documents about the 1976 assassination of Chilean dissident Orlando
Letelier and American co-worker Ronni Moffitt in Washington, D.C.

That terrorist bomb, planted by a Chilean intelligence agent,
occurred while George Bush was CIA director and after he received a warning about the
planned arrival of the chief assassin.

Although other Chilean human-rights documents were released,
Clinton's Justice Department blocked disclosure of key Letelier evidence on the grounds
that the 23-year-old murder case is still active. [For details, see Bush
& the Condor Mystery.]

So, with memories of the many
unanswered Bush questions fading, Americans are left with the hazy impression of President
Bush as a "kinder and gentler" sort of fellow, remembered best from Dana
Carvey's imitation of him as an inarticulate preppie-president saying, "Not gonna do
it. Wouldn't be prudent."

Bush's son is seen in the same benign light as he stresses his
"compassionate conservatism" and struggles with the names of foreign
nationalities from "Grecians" to "Kosovians."

But both Bushes have a darker side that occasionally breaks through
the public facade. In private, President Bush would rant about political enemies in a tone
reminiscent of President Richard Nixon. George W. Bush sometimes flashes a personal mean
streak, too.

In early April 1986, for instance, George W. was miffed at a
prediction by the Wall Street Journal's Al Hunt that Jack Kemp -- not Vice
President Bush -- would win the GOP nomination in 1988. At a Dallas restaurant, Bush
spotted Hunt having dinner with his wife, Judy Woodruff, and their four-year-old son.

Bush stormed up to the table and started cursing out Hunt. "You
[expletive] son of a bitch," Bush yelled. "I saw what you wrote. We're not going
to forget this."

Bush supporters have excused the governor's behavior that occurred
before his 40th birthday on the grounds that Bush was still drinking heavily in those
days. [WP, July 25, 1999]

But even recently, Bush has demonstrated a startling lack of
compassion. In an obscenity-laced interview with conservative writer Tucker Carlson for Talk,
Bush ridiculed convicted murderer Karla Faye Tucker and her unsuccessful plea to Bush to
spare her life.

Other times, the governor displays a sense of humor that makes jokes
at the expense of his friends. Lining up for a photo at an event in Texas, Bush fingered
the man next to him and announced, "He's the ugly one!" Spotting a reporter,
Bush offered the explanation that he was only kidding an old buddy. [NYT, Aug. 22, 1999]